


Peace of Mind

by vanillalime



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Awkwardness, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Post-Break Up, Post-Concussion Syndrome, Protective Steve Harrington, References to Canon Death, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-10-24 21:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20713058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillalime/pseuds/vanillalime
Summary: Steve and Nancy share an awkward conversation after Barb's funeral. Later, Dustin makes Steve feel better, and Steve makes Dustin feel better.





	Peace of Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aroberuka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroberuka/gifts).

> During the closing coda at the end of Season 2, there was a brief pan of Barb's funeral that showed Steve off by himself while Nancy and Jonathan stood together near her parents. This story builds off that moment and speculates on what might have been going through Steve's head afterwards.

With a slight grimace, Steve took a spoonful of the potato salad and dropped it onto his plate. He strongly preferred the kind made without any mustard, but it didn’t really matter. He had no appetite, and eating it was going be a largely symbolic gesture.

Swallowing hard, he turned around and scanned the room. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler were hugging Barb's parents. A short distance away, Jonathan was talking to the minister. Then Steve found Nancy, sitting by herself at a small card table set up next to the window. He hesitated, then walked over to her.

"Can I sit down?"

Nancy looked up at him, her nose red and eyes watery. She still looked beautiful.

"Of course," she answered.

Steve sat down in the folding chair across from hers and loosened his tie. He was hot. It was a sunny day, unnaturally warm for mid-November. He hadn’t known the graveside service was going to last as long as it did.

He slowly took a bite of the potato salad. It tasted terrible. Putting his fork down, he looked over at Nancy. She was poking away at her coleslaw. Maybe he should’ve taken some of that instead.

Suddenly, Nancy sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing her mascara into a black streak.

Steve tried to find the right words. It could be difficult lately, a lingering side-effect from his concussion.

"It was nice... " he began slowly.

Nancy smiled through her tears. "It was," she quickly agreed. "The minister went on a little long, perhaps, but… "

"No, not the service," Steve interrupted. He sighed and tried again. "What you and Jonathan did. It was nice. It was the right thing to do."

"Oh," Nancy replied. "That." She paused, then said, "Thank you. I think it was, too. As awful as it is, I think it’s better this way." She looked over at Barb’s parents, and Steve followed her gaze. Jonathan was now shaking Mr. Holland’s hand.

"I should’ve supported you," Steve said quietly. "Maybe if I had… " and his voice trailed away.

He sensed Nancy stiffen.

Steve shook his head, then abruptly stopped when the pain registered. "Sorry, never mind that." He ate another forkful of potato salad.

"What you did was nice, too," Nancy said softly.

Steve blinked. "Huh?"

"Helping the kids, watching out for them," she explained. "Mike told me everything, all that you did. It was remarkable, really, especially after... " 

Nancy paused awkwardly, glancing at the fading bruises on his face before looking away.

"Especially after Billy Hargrove beat the shit out of me," Steve finished for her.

Nancy didn't say anything. Something beyond Steve had caught her attention. He looked up and saw Jonathan approaching them.

"One of these days," Steve said to her, "I'm going to win a fight and surprise you all." He smiled weakly.

Nancy turned to face him again. "No, Steve," she said gently. "You are not a fighter. You are a protector." She paused, then continued, "_I'm_ a fighter. And I think, maybe, that's why things didn't work out for us. The two aren't really compatible."

Steve stared at her. What she'd just said didn't make any sense. He thought a fighter and a protector fit together perfectly. But Nancy was a lot smarter than he was. Maybe she was right. 

He ran his fingers through his hair. He'd think more about what she'd said later. Maybe it'd make sense then.

"Hi, Steve."

"Hey, Jonathan. How's Will?"

"He's okay, all things considered. Thanks for asking."

Steve checked his watch, then slowly stood up. "Go ahead and take my seat," he told Jonathan. "I think I'm going to head out. I’m supposed to meet up with someone."

"Thanks for coming to this," Nancy said. "It was very thoughtful of you, especially considering how Barb wasn't really a friend of yours."

Steve frowned. Lowering his head, he muttered, "Barb died at my house, while I was right there. This is the least I could do."

Suddenly, his emotions rose through his chest. "You know what? Maybe I’m not a very good protector, either. Maybe I just got lucky with the kids. Maybe it’s all bullshit, and I’m one freaky monster away from losing everybody."

Nancy sat wordlessly, staring back at him. Steve got the impression that she didn't understand him any more than he'd understood her. He turned away and hurried toward the front door.

Once he was outside, Steve faltered and finally stopped. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath of the warm air and regained his composure. Then, thinking of Barb, he looked upwards into the clear blue sky. The bright sunshine soothed his battered face, and he smiled sadly. 

*~*~*

Steve lifted the shaking cardboard box off the backseat and used a foot to shut his car door. He began to make his way up the driveway, his arms grappling with the awkward box. He couldn’t help but laugh when he walked past the sad, faded remnants of the "Mondale-Ferraro" sign protruding crookedly out of the grass.

As if losing Mews hadn’t been bad enough…

Upon reaching the front door, he tightened his grip on the box and pushed the doorbell with his elbow. He didn’t have to wait long.

"Steve?"

"Hey, Henderson."

Dustin stepped outside, a look of pleasant surprise on his face. "What’re you doing here?"

Steve had prepared a little speech, something that explained his actions and described his intentions in a way that was calm, cool, and collected. But as the box took on a life of its own, all the words deserted him. He thrust it toward Dustin’s chest and simply said, "Here." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "This is for you," in case it wasn’t obvious.

With a wide grin, Dustin took the box and set it down on the porch. "Dude, is this a present?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he opened the lid.

"Holy shit." 

Very carefully, Dustin lifted a young cat out of the box. "This is for me? No way!"

Steve shifted awkwardly in place. "It’s a girl, about 8 weeks old. Just weaned. Doesn’t have a name yet."

Dustin stood up and, looking closer, exclaimed, "Oh my god. Steve, is this a _Siamese_ cat?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Where'd you get her? Aren’t they, like, super expensive? Mews was just a stray that we took in."

"Yeah, well, I know a guy."

"You know a _cat_ guy?"

"I know a lot of guys, Dustin."

Dustin’s winning smile spread across his face as he held the cat close. "I can’t believe you did this."

Steve shrugged. "Well, I knew you felt bad about Mews and the Dermogod…"

"Demodog."

"… and the whole thing with that girl."

"Max."

Steve rubbed his forehead. "Max," he repeated. "So, anyway, I thought you deserved a little something to, you know, make up for all that."

"Thanks, buddy." Dustin gently stroked the cat's head. "My mom is going to be thrilled. She’s still pretty upset about Mews."

"Oh, that’s good," Steve replied. Then he quickly clarified, "I mean, it’s good that she’ll be thrilled. Not good that she’s upset about Mews." God, his communication skills sucked these days.

But Dustin wasn’t fazed. "C'mon inside, I want you to see her reaction," he said. "She's in the kitchen making dinner."

Steve took a step backwards. "Uh, no, that's okay. I don't want to impose."

"Don't be stupid," Dustin told him. "You can join us for dinner, and together we'll figure out a name." Acting slightly embarrassed, he added, "We're just having hot dogs, but my mom's made her famous potato salad to go with them."

Steve cocked an eyebrow. "Potato salad? The kind with mustard in it?"

Dustin made a face. "Ew, no! Gross! Why would someone ruin a good potato salad by putting mustard in it?"

Steve grinned. With a wave of his hand, he replied, "I know, right?" Then he hesitated for a moment, before saying, "Well, if you're sure it's okay... "

Dustin cradled his new cat in one arm and opened the door with the other. "Just c'mon," he said impatiently.

Steve picked up the empty box and followed Dustin inside the house. He heard a strange, low buzzing sound and paused in alarm, reflexively anticipating the worst. Then he realized the cat in Dustins's arms had started purring, and he laughed at himself.


End file.
